Mercy
by heavenlyrat
Summary: After the events of FC5, the Deputy must deal with her new situation. In a changed world devoid of friends, her only link lies in her greatest foe, Joseph Seed. Can she navigate through this new deception, without loosing herself - or was Eden's Gate the only option all along? *Eventual Rook to Judge*
1. Enemy

And he sat, dirty and calm, staring down at me as our sick little haven groaned under the weight of automatic fire. I didn't have enough energy to hate him or our proximity. I couldn't think, couldn't feel.

It was insane; pure, unbridled insanity, from start to finish. Or… had it been - in this situation, was Joseph Seed the sane, pragmatic individual, with a sight for the truth? And if so, what did that make me?

Now that was a crazy thought. And I laughed one cold, chilling laugh, that left as soon as it had come. I couldn't help but admire our conviction - our unrelenting belief that _we_ were right. Even now, I was fighting against it, the admission that I had been, that I _was_ … wrong.

It was a difficult notion to even skim over, but the charred corpses of my friends outside lay testament to our mistake.

In another life, would we have chosen any other path? Could it have ever gone any other way? I doubted it. I had understood Eden's Gates base ideals, but I could never condone their methods. I hadn't believed, and I had not said yes – but circumstance had done so for me. The world was not the same, and my only constant was my enemy.

"You're very quiet." Said Joseph, angling himself so that he faced me directly. His intense stare never left my own. "Let it wash over you. Let it sink it. It was meant to be this way, after all."

I could feel wet pricks of betrayal gather behind my eyes, and they shamed me, sliding silently down my stony face. My fingers tightened around my pocket knife, my last weapon. I didn't even try to hide it from Joseph, it wasn't for him.

Joseph looked solemnly at me - and at my hand. "I think I understand, Deputy." He said, looking at me, with tired eyes. "What is wrath when there is nothing left to avenge, when there is no one left to avenge?"

I reflectively let go of the knife. I would not kill myself before "the father".

Joseph smiled, "Your sin is loosening its grip already."

We sat in silence. Thoughts of my friends tugged at all corners of my brain, but I ignored them, scared that they would crumble my thin layer of sanity.

Time had no meaning, and it could have been minutes or hours before Joseph moved. He strode to the back of the bunker, out of eyeshot, and returned with two mugs. Coffee. He handed me one, and I took it graciously, all the while imagining crushing the white ceramic into his skull.

He moved around often, reading, eating, praying. Sometimes he would write into a journal. Sometimes he would cry into his hands and lament his family. Eventually he fell asleep on one of the bunks, and I was grateful for the privacy – it gave me time to plan.

I knew what I had to do – survive. It was unlikely that my friends were alive, in fact, I was sure they were dead. But that didn't mean that the world was over. Eden's Gate had been mostly destroyed, but not entirely - I needed to get out of here and reach civilisation. But I was weapon-less, comrade-less and in a foreign landscape. This would not be a game of braun, but of wit. And the only person prepared for what lay outside those bunker doors, the only man I knew - for certain - in the whole wide world – was my greatest foe.

Joseph hated me, and he had right to. I had killed his siblings; actions which I was not proud of, but that had been necessary at the time - and for them, I bore no regrets. But his hatred was intertwined with a sick desire to _own_ me. I was the biggest prize. If I was to turn, I would not only be an asset but proof of the cults power – even the greatest sinner could fall and become a part of Eden's Gate. That god-awful snake Willis Huntley had once told me that anyone could fight, but it took skill to pull of espionage. I supposed that encounter had been useful after all, as this mission was sure to be my hardest.

With a plan of action half-developed, I went to bed. I took the bunk furthest from Joseph, aware that he would not hurt me. He believed that us being here, together, had happened for a reason – and a twisted little part of me worried that he was right.

My body ached all over and closing my eyes only brought me images of flames and the smell of burnt flesh. The world above… what did it look like? What was left?

With my self-given purpose, I felt calmer. But the numbness of reality hung heavy about me and I was scared for the damn to break, and it to all come crashing down.

I must have dozed off at some point, and awoke to Joseph, with a hand on my shoulder and his face close to mine.

"Hush now, Deputy." He said, taking a seat beside my bed. "You're alright, it was only a dream."

I bolted up and edged away from him. My heart was racing, and I was covered in sweat. I glared at him, confused.

"You were screaming and tossing… I was only trying to calm you." He said, eyes sullen. He took in my posture, my face and the distance that I had put between us.

"You... hate me." He deduced. "And I can understand why you might perceive some of my actions as… cruel. Just as I hate you, for what you have done."

"But I see what must be done, Deputy." He said, and his tone was purposeful. "You and I must come together. You must let go of your wrath, as I have. Look where Wrath has got the world." And he pointed upwards.

He was so self-righteous, I wanted to smack that calm look from his face a hundred times over. But he was right. I was angry, and anger would get me nowhere – not yet.

I had so much to say to him, and truth spilled from my lips. "I understand your intentions Joseph, they seem noble, moral... But means do not justify ends. Your people murder, mutilate, drug and steal from those who choose 'no', who choose free will. You can't force a 'yes' with fear or drugs, or even the end of the world – then its just a decision made in fear, not faith."

Joseph stared at me, eyes wide.

"The sinner speaks." He stated quietly. "Do you know, that in all this time, you have never spoken to me?"

I hadn't realised, but I supposed that he was right. Combat was never the place for a long chat.

"Imagine," he began, "if you had addressed me as eloquently as you did just now, instead of slapping those cuffs on me, all those months ago? I wonder, would it be a different world?"

He got up and turned away from me.

"The Lord tests the righteous and the wicked, And the one who loves violence His soul hates".

"Then he must hate us both, Father" I said.

Joseph looked at me, solemnly. "What is your _name_ , Deputy?"

I paused. There was a reason no one at the station ever used my name, especially once we'd come to Hope county.

But I needed Joseph. I needed his knowledge, his _trust_.

"…Mercy." I said, quietly.

I half expected him to smack his knee and laugh at the irony. But he didn't. He nodded slowly, as if it made sense, before returning to his bunk.


	2. Worth

It had been two days since I'd been pulled beneath Hope county to safety, by a man that I despised.

Perhaps despised wasn't the right word to use. There were a million words that captured how I perceived Joseph Seed; misguided, righteous, ignorant, cruel… driven, purposeful, commanding, charismatic. They created a colourful tapestry that made me feel uneasy. It was strange how I simultaneously both hated and understood him - and stranger still the proximity in which we currently sat.

True, I needed him. But I was surprised by how quickly I had stopped looking for weapons or a means to harm him. Maybe I had nothing left to fight for. Maybe, I had grown tired of the violence.

"You look deep in thought, Mercy." He said, softly. I shuddered when he spoke my name. "What is plaguing your mind?"

And he looked up at me, with clear blue eyes that sparked of genuine interest, mixed with something that I could only guess was rage.

"I was thinking about killing you."

He almost smiled. "But, then what would you do? You've been put in a position where you cannot kill me. Instead, you will _know_ me."

"Know you?" I repeated and collapsed onto my bunk with a harsh sigh. "I know enough."

I knew too much. Throughout my months in Hope county, searching for anything that would reveal the locations of my missing friends - whilst determining how to best take down the Peggy empire - I had stumbled into the dirty and horrific facts of Joseph Seed's life.

"You might be right, Mercy." He had his prayer beads in one hand and swung them slowly, keeping his eyes on them as though I would try and steal them. "But as you know me, I know you."

"As you said before… I hadn't spoken to you until we got in here." I answered, pointedly.

"True, but I've seen you, watched you, all this time." He stopped swinging his beads suddenly. "I saw you arrive, fresh and uncertain. I saw desperation fuel you, and tear you down... I saw you become obsessed with violence and killing. I saw you become Wrath."

I almost scoffed… maybe he was right about some of it. I wasn't sure. I was trying not to think too much – about everything. One wrong move and I was worried I'd go insane. My reality had done a backflip, hell, the _world_ had done a backflip.

But who was he, to sit here and claim to know me. Two could play at that game.

"I know your family." I said, and my quite goad rang out, clear as a bell shattering the silence of our sick haven.

At that Joseph shot up and stood over me, fist raised, as though he meant to drive it through my skull. A little part of me hoped that he would. It might kill me. If not, it would give me reason to kill him. But then he relaxed, as quickly as he had sprung, and lowered his arm.

He sighed, long and hard. "The Lord wants us to _test_ each other." He spat the word out, like it was poison on his tongue. "How can we lead our people to salvation, if we cannot communicate?"

"So, test we will." He took a seat and angled It towards me.

"Tell me, Mercy, do you consider yourself a hero?"

"No." I said, numbly.

Joseph absorbed my response and considered it, before trying again.

"But, _did_ you?"

I stared at him. The answer sat firmly on my tongue, but I didn't want to say it.

"Yes." I said, and it was a little more than a whisper.

"But you weren't, you were wrong – don't you see?"

"I did what I could. I tried and I tried, for what I believed to be right." I spat, and now it was my temper which was flaring.

"Hypocrite." He said, calmly. "You're a hypocrite."

I stared at him, burning into his pale blue eyes with my own, quiet rage.

"You claimed to be fighting for the people of Hope County, and against those of Eden's gate. But as your wrath and arrogance grew, I saw how the two became… blurred to you. How many 'innocents' did you ignore, never once coming to their aid? How many of my men and women did you leave to their own devices? Many. After…" He faltered, "After Jacob died, your men… your _Whitetails_ became far more brutal than my own. But you didn't care. Your eyes were only for me, your wrath was only for me – none of your actions were powered by justice… Do not lie to yourself, Deputy."

As I listened to him, it was like a damn broke in my mind. I had never lied to myself, but I had never been honest either. Why did I do the things that I did? Why did I come to Hope County? Why did I become a Deputy? Was it a power trip that I was on, did I have a death wish, or was it fate leading me here to push Joseph, kill his family and complete his transformation into a new leader of men? Each question was more terrifying than the last.

But for him I had only one; one that would not free me of any guilt, but that I had to ask.

"Was it worth it?"

"Yes." He said. And with that he turned away and went back to whatever he'd been writing all this time.


	3. New World

It was sheer luck that we'd made it into the bunker down by Pete's in time. I'd only known about it a day or two prior, when we'd been ordered to come and empty it of supplies. Thankfully, we hadn't got around to it. The deputy had killed Jacob and the whole of the county had been in turmoil, most of all The Chosen.

Three of us had been on a scouting mission when the last seal had been broken. No one had given us a mission, but driven by righteous vengeance we had deemed it only right to look for that god awful sinner. And then we'd seen the fire rain down from the sky.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but I had been waiting for this. The collapse was just the beginning of Eden's Gate and our future lay beyond those flames.

And now we sat, all three of us, Danny, Jim and I, safe from the cleansing above.

"Do you think Joseph's ok?" asked Jim, polishing his rifle as he spoke. He loved that damned rifle.

"Of course he is." Snapped Danny, "He's the only one who can guide us now."

"We thought the same about Jocab… John.. Faith.." said Jim, eyes still on the weaponry as he listed off the Seed family tree.

"Joseph is different." I said, "Like Danny said, he's a part of this." And I gestured to the world above.

The two, mismatched men nodded.

Danny was well into his 40's with a strong temper and stronger sense of purpose. His brown hair was tied down the back and his beard was kept short. He was the epitome of masculinity, with broad shoulders and thick, tattoo covered arms. But Danny had a kind soul, he found some of Eden's Gates harder demands… challenging. He was a believer, but he had non-violent tendencies, despite being one of the Chosen. I had earned his respect in training, but he gave it to few.

Jim, or Jimmy if you were trying to push his buttons, was a hick. With an accent thicker than most and a love for plaid that he'd had to abandon (somewhat unwillingly), he'd climbed through the Church's ranks at an ungodly speed. The kid had 'the eye' and could pick off a sinner from about a mile away. Despite how he looked, he had been somewhat of a prodigy of Jacob's. His death at the hands of the deputy had shaken Jim badly.

And then there was me, Vera or V, and by some strike of fate (be it bad or good) we'd ended up together, as one of Jacob's 'Chosen' parties. We'd known each other for around 6 months now, but it felt much longer.

"The Deputy…" said Jim. "What do you think happened to her?"

Danny nearly laughed – nearly.

"Look around you, Jim." I said, arms wide. "The collapse has come. The Deputy is dead. The world as we know it… is over."

Jim seemed satisfied with my answer and nodded to himself, as we all settled down and waited for the heavens fire above to cease. It could be days or months till it was safe to return to Hope County, but the bunker was well stocked and we were well prepared. And as I lay down to rest that night, my heart felt lighter than it ever had before. The world had been cleansed, and tomorrow, we would start anew.

* * *

Time had no meaning in the bunker, so I couldn't tell if it was night or day when Joseph awoke. He looked suddenly alert, with his eyes focused on some far-off thing that I could neither hear nor see.

I looked to him quizzically, and he snapped out of his internal wondering and met my eye

"It's time to test the waters of the New World." He said, and he stood up purposefully. He held out a hand and I took it, aware of his callous and scarred skin.

He walked me towards the entrance of the bunker, and we both stared up the metal steps.

It chilled me to know that this place had been Dutch's, one of my truest friends and an essential guide. It sickened me to know that his body was now in the bunker's large freezer. Joseph had killed him, and I had never brought it up – nor brought my Wrath upon him for it. Instead, I had taken his hand and now stood by his side.

Joseph began to ascend the stairs, choosing his footing carefully as though this moment was intracule. I followed suit, little more than a child in his shadow.

I had no idea what lay above, but a part of me trusted Joseph. If he believed it to be safe, I knew that it would be. Was this what they called… faith?

We reached the bolted door, and Joseph slid the latch. He inhaled loudly, tilting his head back slowly, before he swung it open and revealed the reborn world.

Hope County had once been a pallet of the colours of nature - it was now an unsaturated wasteland. The fires were gone, though smoke lingered in places. The trees were burnt, and the grass was a charred mess of ash and debris. There was no bird song, nor the chirping of crickets or the soft rustle of leaves. The sky hung heavy and dark, daylight obscured by a thick smog that I could feel with each breath.

I felt my legs fail beneath me, and my traitor tears begin to pour out. I watched at they fell to the parched earth and were quickly absorbed. Surely the whole world couldn't have come to this – surely there was something, anything left?

Joseph looked about himself, taking in the world with a stern gaze. He was not surprised, nor saddened, merely… expectant. Something caught his eye yonder, and he strolled through the burnt-out thicket, his boots crunching into the earth. He returned a moment later, with something in his hand.

He came up close, and knelt down, showing me what he held. It was a single, fresh blade of grass, green and lovely.

"The Collapse has come… but it has not been the end, child." He said, and he looked at me in a way which he had not before.

"…wrong…" I choked out.

And he raised an eyebrow, confused by my half-formed sentence.

I tried again. "I was… wrong." I said, and I meant it.

He was right and he had been, all this time. It was so fucked up – that this murderer and torturer was in fact, _right_.

His eyes grew intense at my admission of defeat. He stared at me hungrily, as if he wanted to absorb this moment completely.

He lifted my chin and brought my face close to his, planting a kiss on my tear stained mouth. I didn't fight it – I remained numb, frozen in place as overpowering hopelessness crashed over me.


	4. Old Friend

"There." I said, pointing to a barn that seemed to be somewhat intact. The outside was charred, and the windows cracked, but it looked promising enough.

After leaving the bunker Joseph had returned my weapons - my modified sniper rifle, shotgun and well-worn handgun - and their familiar weight was a small comfort. We'd stocked two backpacks full of canned food and medical equipment and tied bandanas around our mouths to protect us from the subsequent dust and debris. Joseph had watched as I buried Dutch, under an old, burnt out oak. The grave was shallow and the earth dusty, but it was as good as I could muster under the conditions and eye of my unwanted companion.

For the past day we'd been trekking across burnt fields and smoking forest, with a destination that had not yet been disclosed. My experience in Hope County had hardened me to the landscape, and I was eager to scout locations from a distance, approach areas with caution and avoid being in the open for too long - if at all. Joseph however considered himself a man of divine purpose and so seemed perfectly at ease. His weapon remained firmly holstered and, had I not barked orders at him from time to time, it seemed unlikely that he would have been on the defensive at all. I wondered if he'd always been so free to walk Hope County – up until my arrival.

As was standard in this journey, I took the lead. I approached the barn slowly, handgun drawn. After a quick sweep of the area and a peer through the broken window into the interior, I gave the ok. Joseph gave me a quick nod and strode on through the creaking door. I followed and we both pulled down our bandanas, glad to be free of them. The barn was a mess, broken boards hung down from the ceiling and one corner had caught fire at some point - but it was shelter.

"It's not much, but I'd advise we stop here for the night. It's probably the best we're going to find – and we still don't know what or _who_ is out there." I said, flinging my pack against a beam.

"You… remind me of Jacob." Said the Father, placing his pack opposite to mine and meeting my eye. "In another world, you would have been brothers."

I glared at him.

Joseph sat then, back against his bag and took in one long breath. "This has all happened for a reason, Mercy. I have faith. I know that you will take my side – Afterall, you've already acknowledged Eden's Gates integrity. But you are still so _very_ blind."

I was too tired to argue with him, so I sat down too. Using my pack as a pillow I fell into a deep sleep.

I was in that decrepit dream-house, my vision tinted red and obscured by the glimmer of bliss. I started forward, like I had so many times before, slaughtering all those in my path. Who were they? I wondered. Where they figments of my drugged-up imagination, or where they real people, other unfortunates, just the same as me? And more to the point, did I really care?

I would do anything to survive. Anything.

* * *

I awoke suddenly to raised voices – men and a woman. Hands grabbed me harshly and pushed me to my knees. There were multiple people in front of me, their faces obscured by bandanas and bright lights. I turned urgently to see Joseph. He was sat next to me, hands met in prayer with a gun pointed at his head.

"Stop, stop – Don't!" I cried at the masked assailant as I made towards him. But before I could rise the handle of a gun met the back of my head and I was plunged into darkness.

* * *

It was a sick world they all lived in, and Jess doubted very much that the worst was behind them. She wasn't surprised by it, hell, she wasn't surprised by anything anymore - but when they'd hauled in the two bodies, she had to admit, she'd been fucking shocked.

It was perfect irony that they'd all survived the blast in John's bunker, well, what was left of it. And after the blast they'd made it somewhat of a base. It already had all the necessary supplies, if you didn't mind the debris, and she didn't.

It also had the necessary room to hold an enemy.

The other one… well, she'd heard about what the Deputy had done to Eli, and stories had got back to her about Dep being 'under Jacobs thumb'. But Jacob was dead now. Hell, nearly everyone was dead now. But the Father wasn't, and for some god-fucking-knows reason, him and the Deputy had been spotted making their way through the charred remains of her grandma's farm together. She wished to God that Grace was here, she was always the more calm, strategic one. She always knew what to do. But the sniper was on a scouting trip, so she'd have to make do. Besides, Grace and the Deputy were practically sisters at this point, so she doubted the latter would approve of her distrust or her methods.

"They've both been secured, Jess." Came the voice of Brian, a loyal friend of hers who'd spotted the two.

"Thanks." She said, making her way towards the room they'd prepared for them. "Is Dep awake?"

"Yea, but we've kept bags on their heads…" Brain trailed off and his eyes shifted away from her, uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" she asked, plainly.

He shook his head before answering. "The Dep did a lot for us Jess… I don't really think this is necessary…"

"It's not." She bit back, sharply. The Deputy had become one of her closest friends in their time together, but rumours had spread and now, being spotted with the Father… Jess didn't know what to think. It was just a pre-caution, wasn't it? "I just want to see what she has to say."

And with that she entered the room that held both her greatest friend and most hated foe. A guard was positioned towards the back of the room, he was armed and nervous. A bad combination, but she didn't have time to address it.

She took a step towards her friend first and stripped the bag from her head. Dep was blinded by the bright lights for a second, before her eyes settled and relief and happiness washed over her features. Dep looked much the same, thinner but still with those big, bambi eyes. Jess had once thought that Dep looked like one of those cops you saw on TV; too innocent looking to stare down evil and uphold the law. And she'd learnt the hard way that looks could be deceiving. No one could mow down a base of Peggies like Dep.

"Jess?!" Cried Dep, half a statement half a question. "Thank God you're alive… I don't believe it…"

Jess allowed a smile to pass through her lips. "Yea well, I'm kind of hard to kill."

Dep laughed and looked to her wrists; she was bound to a chair, in much the same fashion as she had been by John, many months ago. Jess could see confusion, then realisation pass over her brow before her eyes flicked to the silent captive next to her and back again.

"I've heard a lot of things Dep, things I don't understand." She nodded to the still bagged, still silent father. "What happened? Why are you two… together?"

Jess watched as the Dep's eyes grew glassy, and she seemed to subconsciously pull against her restraints.

"It happened, Jess…" she whispered, "They were right."

Jess stared at her, a shadow of the Deputy she'd come to know and respect. Maybe it had been too much, maybe she'd broken. She wouldn't hold that against her, not after all she'd been through. But what did she mean, 'They were right'? The Peggies had bombed Hope County sure, but the rest of the world was still ok… wasn't it?


	5. Let Them Go

It had been a fine summers day when I'd watched John Seed die. The warm air had rustled through the thicket and the birds had sung while he'd wheezed out his final monologue – "What if Joseph is right? Did you ever stop to think about that?!"

It was a question that had fallen on deaf ears. So, I couldn't blame Jess, not really.

I was aware of how insane it all sounded – hell, I sounded like a Peggie. Maybe at this point, I was. But I was no fool, and Jess knew that. It had been the end of the world, maybe not _completely_ , but the missiles had come, and Montana lay in ruin.

Joseph Seed had been right, and he was the only one who knew what was coming.

I looked at my old friend, so happy that she was alive, so happy that _any_ survivors remained – but I knew Jess's stubbornness well, and of her unbridled hatred for Eden's Gate. She would not be easily convinced.

But I had to try.

"Jess." I began, trying to sound like my old, commanding and confident self. "I know that this is crazy, that I _sound crazy_ … but look around you Jess, everything that Joseph predicted has come to pass." I looked at my new companion, who still had that bag over his head. "He was right."

Jess looked down at me, and for a second her brown eyes softened, before they flicked to rage. She stormed towards the father and ripped away his hood and gag.

"What have you done?" she hissed at him, unafraid. "What have you done to her?!"

Joseph smiled, but it was one full of venom, just how he had smiled at me as he'd shackled me to that table.

"She see's clearly now." He said softly, and he tilted his head towards me, in what could have been taken as a sign of affection.

Jess hissed again and slapped him, hard, around the face.

"Stop Jess!" I cried, but she paid it no heed.

"You're sick… the both of you." Sighed Jess, with resignation. "Take him away." She said, indicating to the father, who sat calmly surveying her.

Then she turned to me, eyes wide, desperate and pleading. "Tell me everything. Everything that's happened since we split up."

* * *

Vera had longed for the new world… but, it wasn't quite how she'd imagined. As Danny, Jim and her trudged through the burnt-out smog of the wood, she tried to image the Eden of the Bible. The two didn't have much in common, well, not yet anyway.

After emerging from their cramped, makeshift-bunker they'd decided to head for John's. It was the only family bunker which they knew to still exist (in partial integrity), with the rest blown to untimely smithereens. It was a risk, especially with the current condition of the planet. Vera wasn't even sure if the air was safe to breath, but Jim had been convinced that they should go to the surface - he said he'd had a vision of the father telling them to. V wasn't too sure that she believed him, but she couldn't take another day in there, not with these two idiots.

Luckily, they were Jacobs 'Chosen' and they knew the land well, fire ridden or not. So, it wasn't long before they spotted the large concrete structure in the distance.

"We're here." Said Danny, tracing the outline of the Bunker front with one gloved hand. It seemed mostly untouched by the hellfire and ash.

They continued forward, grateful for the familiar terrain. But just as they were nearing the entrance, Vera spotted the flash of a scope.

"GET DOWN!" she yelled, as the shriek of a sniper bullet pierced the air.

She hurled herself behind a mass of rubble, which might have once been an outhouse. The poor, dusty air made it difficult to see where the others had got to - if they'd made it at all.

Who where these people? And why were they alive?!

She heard a scuffle to her left and then saw the shadow of Jimmy rise to his feet, hands up. He was facing the bunker, weapon nowhere in sight.

"Please. We do not mean you any harm." He said, into the quiet air. "We, like you, are members of Eden's Gate. We are here for the new worl-"

He had almost finished when one quick bullet shot his skull in two, and his body fell gracelessly to the sullen earth.

She stifled a shriek.

That was the only sign she needed. This enemy was unexpected – only Eden's Gate should have remained in this bombed-out world. She needed to retreat, to scope out this fresh enemy and put her training to good use, but before she could turn, a bullet tore through her right calf.

She cried out as the pain gripped her entirely. It burnt like fire. And as she fell, she heard footfalls behind her, before she succumbed to the dark.

* * *

Just as expected, Jess hadn't listened. She hadn't wanted to and that was… warranted. She'd thought me mad, hypnotised… broken. And maybe that last one was true. But if I was one thing, it was persistent. I was a survivor.

Joseph and I, it was a shocking alliance, it had to be said. But I would stay with him until I saw another option, a _better_ option.

I felt venom and bitterness creep into my thoughts, as I sat tied to that chair like a criminal. Jess was a broken child. She owed me, her 'Rook', for bringing down the Cult, just as she'd blindly wished for. And God forbid I ask for anything in return.

"Now, now Mercy." Said the Father, his eyes on me. Unlike myself, he wasn't fighting his restraints. He almost seemed to be enjoying them. "I can feel negativity swimming around you like rabid fish in an empty pond. You must let your Wrath go."

I eyed him angrily. "She… they were my friends." I indicated to my restraints. "They've abandoned me."

"Mercy," Said the Father, a light smile on his face. "Perhaps it is time you abandon them."


	6. Her Fault

We had been in Johns bunker for a couple of days now, kept in adjacent cells. Every so often survivors would come and leave us food, canned goods that would have once been unappreciated, but now went down a treat. I didn't see Jess again.

It should have bothered me, to be held prisoner by my friends, in a place which I had once liberated - for them. But something was different now; my alliances had truly changed.

Maybe Jess was right, maybe I had been broken. But who was she to judge? Jess had been with the survivors, alive and together.

For all those months I had thought the world... over. And it would have been for them too, if not for this bunker. If not for what they - _I_ \- had attempted to destroy.

I'd been staring at Joseph for a while now, as he paced around his cell, unfazed.

"What's next?" I asked, no longer disturbed by my own faith in him.

Joseph seemed to chew this over for a moment, before he came right up to his own bars and looked intently at me.

"The Lord will free us, have faith Mercy. These unbelievers... they walk a tainted path."

I took his answer with a pinch of salt, but there was something about Joseph, some presence that guided him, that prevented him from harm. He had not got to the end of the world by chance. There was... something... on his side. That, I could not deny.

Content in our shared silence, it was unexpected when I heard another body being dragged into a cell. From where I was placed, I couldn't make out who it was, friend or foe. But Joseph seemed to recognise them, however he kept silent until the guards had left.

As soon as the large metal door slid shut and the guard took his place on the outside, the newcomer rose to their feet and brought themselves right up to the rusty bars. I followed suit, craning my head to the right so that I could make them out.

The girl was young, maybe a year or two older than myself, with wild hair and crazed eyes. She was covered in debris and blood, and from what little remained of her clothing I could make out a faint scar on her chest; where her sin had once been ripped away, a whole world ago. But the girl only had eyes for Joseph.

"Father… Oh, Father." She crooned, half-way between a sob and an excited exclamation.

"It's good to see you, child." Said he, eyes intense. "It would seem that God has led you to the new world."

"Yes, yes." She cried, little more than a whisper now. "Thank you, Father, thank you."

"There's no need, my child." He said, turning away. "The Lord has sent you here… for a reason." He looked at me as he spoke. "The Lord has a plan. He has shown it to me, I know what must be done and we –" he nodded in my direction "must get out of here. We must rebuild."

She saw me then, the Peggy girl, and her eyes grew wide. I could see the hatred brewing in them, and the want to hurt and to harm spasm down her slight frame.

"Sinner." She hissed, but Joseph waved his hand to silence her and she, without question or pause, obeyed.

"No longer…" said he, "She is… my _family_."

The girl looked sick, but her faith was stronger than her hate and she calmed. "You… _you_ did this." She accused, the anger becoming something more… something sad. "They're dead, shot, just outside. The Father's behind bars. The world lies in ruin. You broke the seals. You refused to leave. YOU DID THIS."

And then she turned away seething, while Joseph appraised her from a distance.

"It had to be." He said calmly. "It was always _meant_ to, and it was always _going_ to be."

"It's all her fault, Father… all her fault." And she sounded, finally, defeated.

They sat in silence then. The father seemed deep in thought, and that allowed my own thoughts to travel into pessimistic, or was it _realistic,_ territory.

All those months in the bunker, when I'd felt my sanity crumble under the weight of uncertainty and disillusion, I had never once felt… guilty. I'd been too shocked. Too stunned. It had all happened so fast.

Guilt was here now though, clawing at the edges of my mind, brought on by two little words – ' _her fault_ '. Surely, this was beyond me? I hadn't believed that the end of the world was coming, I had been blind… so how could I be responsible?

I tried to remember what Joseph had said, that lifetime ago when the first bombs had fallen, that whole person ago when I had first arrived in the cursed Hope County. He'd said something about the Sheriff, about Whitehorse, and about how 'hell' had followed with him.

* * *

It had been a long day, hell, it had been a long fucking year. The longest of her life, and that was saying a lot for Jess. Rook seemed like a lost cause and that was… that was scary. The way she talked about Joseph, as though he was the only one who'd be able to see them all through this, it was madness. Mercy was _mad_.

Months in a bunker with her greatest foe, that was what had killed the Deputy, and she didn't much blame her.

It had taken all her strength not to kill Joseph then and there, but he had intel, he'd prepared for this. All the supplies the Peggie's had stashed away; he was one of the last people to know where they all lay. And that girl… they hadn't seen nor heard from the Peggie's until Joseph arrived, it seemed too great of a coincidence that one would just _happen_ upon the Bunker right after they took him in.

Never trust a Peggie. Ever.

They'd been in there almost a week now, and there'd been scarcely a peep out of them. Sometimes Jess would look in and catch a glimpse of her former friend, who seemed more caught up in her own thoughts than in her current predicament. Sometimes she'd notice Joseph staring at her, marking her with his eyes as his biggest prize.

She didn't know what to do with them. She needed to wait for Grace. It was too big of a decision for her make alone.

If anything, the longer they stayed here the weaker they were. So, it hardly surprised her when she heard that the girl, the Chosen who'd been spotted around the perimeter, had fainted. They were on double rations, and Jess considered that to be generous. At least she wasn't drowning them in the lake.

What did surprise her, however, was when two men ran into her private quarters one evening, just as she was tucking into some flavourless canned beans.

"The CCTV," cried one, a cold sweat on his head. "I looked away for two seconds…"

"Spit it out." She commanded.

"They're gone!" shouted the second. "Vanished!"

"What about the fucking guards?!" Yelled Jess, anger rising in her throat.

The two men swallowed hard.

Jess didn't wait for a response, she picked up her trusty bow and rushed towards the door. "They'll still be in here, they won't have had time to escape. Find them! Alert everyone!"

And with that they ran.

Of course, thought Jess bitterly as she made towards the entrance, of course they'd have escaped. It was the fucking Dep for crying out loud, she was a one-woman army!

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews I really appreciate them! I've only just started New Dawn and am working to make this story fit in with what happens and the eventual Judge etc. so hopefully it all comes together :)**


	7. Ready to See

In the quiet of the morning, I awoke to whispers. Joseph, and the girl who had revealed herself to be Vera, were exchanging urgent words. I tried to make out what they were saying; but the conversation was not meant for me, and if Joseph had wanted me to know, then I would.

I wanted out of this cell, I wanted out of everything. My stubbornness to survive was my greatest strength, but also a harrowing weakness. I was too stubborn to role over and end this bleak, tumultuous and confusing journey that I was on. But I was also too empty and confused to propel myself; I needed to be given orders, a mission, a target… anything that would mean I didn't have to rely on my own desires, or free will. I didn't trust myself, not anymore.

When the sun rose fully and the cells lit up in a hazy glow that proved that the end of the world had indeed come, the guard came in with the rations. And that's when Vera fell, or at least it sounded like it. There was a crash of sorts and the guard, not without feeling, asked if she was ok. When no response came, he opened her cell and sat her upright. He splashed some water on her face and she came around. And all the while Joseph watched, with his intense and unsettling gaze.

And then he left. And the day continued like so many before it had. Each of us together, yet alone, left to converse only with our own thoughts.

* * *

I awoke in the middle of the night, to the sound of my cell door creaking open quietly. The jail was pitch black, but I could see the shadowy figure of Joseph before me, hand extended.

"It's time to go, Mercy. It's time to unleash Wrath upon them."

I got up wearily and his ignored his hand.

"What? How?" I whispered, confused.

Vera appeared behind him then and flashed the keys with a wicked smile.

"The Father says that you can get us out of here." She hissed. "I've done my part, now you do yours."

Adrenalin coursed through me then and I quieted the internal scream that told me not to run. The old me would have stayed with Jess… but the old me wouldn't have been imprisoned, wouldn't be with the Father. The old me was dead.

I felt myself fall back into who I used to be, and I took the lead.

"The only way we're getting out of here is quietly." I said, voice low. "Stay behind me unless I beckon otherwise."

Neither of my comrades spoke, but they nodded in silent agreement.

I approached the door to the jail and took a glance out of the musty window. There was a guard positioned a little bit away, he was sat on an old wooden chair, rifle in hand.

The door was old and heavy, and its creak was unmistakable. I'd have to do this quickly.

"Stay here until I deal with him, then follow me out." I hissed.

I took one, long, calming breath and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was Dep, running into a Peggy outpost, driven by wild violence and a sense of misplaced morality.

I pulled the door open, and just as expected it shrieked out in a metallic tongue.

I darted forward, body low, breath quiet; and just as the guard went to turn, I broke his neck in a quick tug and he fell to the ground gracelessly. I picked up his corpse, careful not to look at his face, and carried him back into the cell where the two waited. He was heavy, unusually so, and I supposed that in the months away from the field I had softened, in both mind and body.

I dumped him in Vera's cell, in a dark corner out of eye sight. It would be a while before anyone found him.

I motioned for the others to join me, and we started through the bunker. I picked up his rifle, just in case.

* * *

Thankfully, I was familiar with the bunkers' layout, so I knew where the exit was, and it didn't take us to long to near it. Every so often we would come across a random guard and I would take them out, just as I had the first. I never looked at their faces.

Eventually we reached the stairwell, which I knew would be the most heavily guarded area. By the lack of alarms or reinforcements I had concluded that the power was on minimum - so no security cameras or feedback monitors were in operation. I was grateful, but a small part of me longed to be spotted, hoped to be stopped.

The stairwell contained three men, all armed. My stealth training was good, hell, it was second to none, but three was a tricky number. For this, I'd need help.

I indicated to Vera that there were three armed men, I told her that I'd take the first two, but that the third would have to be her responsibility. She seemed almost excited.

I took the first man down and dragged his body behind a large crate. But just as I went to make a move on the second, he spotted me and yelled out. I dragged him down quickly and choked him out, but the third knew - and he was screaming down a walkie talkie.

"They're out! The Fathers out, and the Dep! Send back up!" He yelled, just as Vera used a pistol she'd stolen along the way, to silence him.

Then an alarm sounded, and it rang out loud, causing the whole bunker to vibrate. I could already hear footsteps echoing down the corridor – it sounded like there were a lot of them.

"Shit!" I cried, pulling up my rifle. "You two go first. Vera cover the front. I'll take the back."

They both started up the stairs, with me hot on their tails.

As we started the second staircase bullets began flying from below, pinging of the metal railings and concrete walls. I fired back blindly as we churned around the endless spiral, praying that I was doing enough to keep our pursuers at bay. But as we neared the top the fire began to cease – either those who the bullets belonged to were dead, or they feared the world above. But I didn't have time to consider it before Joseph began unlocking the main door.

When the monstrosity finally creaked open, we lunged outside, grateful for the dusty, polluted air, for the freedom.

But we were only a few paces into the wasteland when I heard her. Jess.

She whistled out loudly into the silence.

I turned around slowly, and there she was, stood on the upper platform of the bunker. Hood up and bow drawn. Had no one been brave enough to follow her up here, or had she wanted to come alone?

"Jess, please, let us go." I said, sad… but focused. I was still in Dep-mode, still driven by adrenaline, by the fight. This wasn't the time for a long chat.

She drew her bow and Vera lifted her pistol in response, but I pushed her arm down. She looked at me, enraged, but obeyed, leaving the pistol firmly by her side.

"Jess-" I began again, hoping that this time my words might ring out clearly and find footing. But before I could finish, her arrow flew and hit Vera squarely between the eyes.

I barely had time to respond, to acknowledge Vera's bleeding corpse, before she drew again, and this time, the arrow was aimed at Joseph.

My mind was blank as I lifted the rifle and pulled the trigger. My eyes were open, but I didn't see Jess die. Not really.

Her hood shot off, her bow fell, and her body crumpled. But I didn't see it. I didn't see.

We ran then, like deer into the forest, our footfalls light and eager, driven by adrenaline, guilt and fear.

I don't know when I started crying and screaming, but I remember Joseph telling me that I needed more time. I remember him leading me back into that bunker. Our bunker. I remember him telling me that now… I was ready to see.


	8. The Judge

The night that we arrived back into our bunker, I had a dream.

I dreamt of a long line of domino's, each one precariously placed on a long wooden table. The room, the table, it all seemed so familiar. It was somewhere that I had been before, but I couldn't name nor place it.

My attention was drawn wholly to the domino's, and the need to push them over was all consuming; but I refrained, stopped by some internal force which didn't want to disrupt their perfection.

And then the shrieking began, high-pitched and indistinguishable at first, like a million 'angels' running across a corn field. I couldn't move, couldn't find the source of it, all I could do was stare and resist.

And then John was there, the first Seed that I'd slain. He stood close to me, just to the left of the table. He was just how he had been in life, tall and proud and malicious. He laughed at me, laughed at my predicament.

And that's when the need to push the dominos grew. I stretched out one weary hand, and down they fell.

The shrieking stopped, replaced by John's sobbing, and as they fell, I stared on, transfixed by the echo of ghostly destruction that passed through them.

And then John transformed, as though he'd been made out of malleable smoke all along, into Faith, the second Seed whom I'd killed.

"Stop them!" she cried, and she grabbed my hand with her own.

Even if I'd wanted to, I wouldn't have listened. She had more blood on her hands and lies on her lips than were on my own. I would not listen to her, to _anyone -_ I wouldn't stop what I had started - and I flinched away from her ghostly touch.

I followed the line of them, all the way down the table, until none remained standing and I felt free of their spell. But at their end stood Jacob, rifle in hand. He had it pointed at me, the scope lined up perfectly between my eyes.

He fired his round and I, unable to run, closed my eyes and braced for impact… but none came.

I peeled my eyes open uncertainly, only to find that he too had changed and morphed into a face I knew well.

"Jess." I breathed, shocked to see her standing before me, young and alive. "Jess, I'm so sorry."

She didn't seem to hear me, or if she did, she didn't care. Instead, she lifted one finger and pointed it straight at my heart.

Her mouth moved, but she made no sound. It didn't matter, something within me understood, and I knew what she had said: _Your Fault_.

* * *

The new few days passed in a haze of blind insanity; when I wasn't asleep, being tormented by dead friends and enemies alike, I was awake, paralysed by the all-consuming guilt.

Finally, I could see who I was, who I'd always been. I was a horseman of the apocalypse, a devil on the world, who had ultimately been responsible for its very destruction. If I'd never come to Hope County, never slapped those handcuffs on Joseph Seed, the world would not have ended. My friends would not have died.

I couldn't live with myself, not anymore.

"Ah, Mercy, I'm glad your awake – do you need some more?" asked Joseph, handing me a cup of green and twinkling liquid. The bliss was the only thing that had been able to calm me and give me some semblance of rest.

I took it gratefully, though only a sip. I needed to numb the pain, but I was done with sleeping, done with the nightmares.

He raised an eyebrow at my meagre drink and took a seat near my bed. It was strange that this place, the late Dutch's bunker which had once been my prison, was now my respite.

"Are you ready to speak?" he asked, understanding thick in his voice.

I tried to start, tried desperately to get something out, but words failed me.

"I know you see. You've opened yourself up to the Lord, and He has welcomed you." Said the Father, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

It had to be true, _didn't it_? Joseph had known what I would do, what I _had_ to do. It was all part of something larger, something greater than me or him or even Hope County.

"I- I'm sorry." I said, voice thick with emotion.

Joseph exhaled loudly, and I wondered if, after all this time, this was what he'd wanted from me. Repentance.

"I'm generous, child." He said, extending a cool, callous hand and caressing my cheek. "And so is the Lord. This was his plan all along. This was _meant_ to happen."

"But, why?" I wailed, like a stubborn, selfish child. "Why!?"

The Father smiled and it was genuine. "Why?" he echoed. "There are some things that we will never know. But when we are given God's guidance, we must follow it. We must move forward. This isn't about what has come, but about what will. You are a part of that – you are a part of New Eden."

* * *

It was a strange thing, to see Mercy so broken.

Up until now, I'd had quiet doubts about her in place New Eden - though the Lord had shown me that it would indeed come to pass. She was at war with herself, both head and heart locked into an internal battle, driven by some chaotic longing that I doubted even she knew the reasoning behind.

Her violence was searing, I could almost feel it radiating off her when she was close. In the bunker, she was like a bulb that had been left on, burning through its glass and metal casing, melting through the room.

But in order to be born anew, she had to be broken, just as we all had. We all needed a test, to show what we were willing do to serve God, what we would sacrifice. Killing her friend had broken her, but with me as her family, she would come back twice the woman she had been.

The bliss would work its way through her system, and just like it always did, it would show her the truth.

When she awoke for the third time that day, I was surprised when she seemed clear. For most people it took a long time, weeks maybe, but Mercy was strong and resilient. Perhaps she'd been able to forcibly claw her way to the light of the truth.

"Are you ready to speak?" I asked her, curious as to what she would say.

She had trouble starting, but once ready, she spilled out her confusion, her frustration and most importantly, her guilt. It was music to my ears to hear her finally, _finally_ , after all these months, after all these trials and tribulations, _finally_ be able to see with open eyes. She sought forgiveness, from both me and God, but she would not give it to herself. Not yet, maybe not ever. And that was fair; her sins were great.

Over the next couple of days, she sank into the Book of Joseph. She clung to the words, transfixed to my teachings, her eyes greedily scanning the text as she made frequent notes. When we ran out of paper she moved onto the walls, carving into them with flint and pennies when we ran out of pens.

She still needed the bliss to sleep, but she was improving.

I had always considered Mercy, or more accurately, the Junior Deputy, to be a woman of obsession. Her relentless violence towards myself and my people had bordered on insanity. She would not stop, not until we were all dead. I understood now that it had been God's plan, that she had been guided by divine will towards a divine purpose… and that purposefulness shadowed her even now.

She eagerly threw herself into Eden's work, asking me all types of questions night and day, about the future and what it held. She often wondered what her part would be in it, but as the discussion progressed, she would become… uneasy. She didn't believe that she deserved a place in New Eden, she was a sinner, _the_ sinner. She could not go there, not as she was.

"You will be what you always have been," I assured her, "a lawman, upholding God's law, this time."

She seemed to chew that over. "There are no police, no jails or prisons, not anymore, not really. What you're asking of me is to be an executioner."

"No." I responded, almost offended by her assumption. "This is the new world and that's who you were, not who you will be."

We would move into this new world better than before, an elevated version of our old, diseased selves.

She looked sad, and thoughtful and half-mad. "I just want to help. I want to help people. I want to help New Eden grow. I want to repent. Point me in a direction and I'll _judge_. I'll be your judge, following your word in upholding justice… re-growth."

Her eyes were hungry as she said it, and for the first time in a while I saw a spark of genuine life within them. She could finally envision her future, and it was firmly by my side. The Junior Deputy was finally no more.

"Then so be it," I proclaimed, with a smile. "You are to be New Eden's _Judge_."


	9. Survivors

The next few months were strange, even with my newfound clarity. It was as though I'd been given a new pair of boots that needed breaking in. Every step drew blood, but I knew that in time, they would fit like a second skin. All I needed was time, was patience.

Joseph taught me everything; answering every question that I had, easing every doubt that I raised. I was reminded of my time in the police academy, when I'd first joined. I'd been a true rookie then, completely out of my depth. It hadn't taken long for that to change.

In the morning we would set out, to find a tree that Joseph had 'heard' about. I didn't ask many questions, it wasn't my place, but I was curious about the specifics of his power. He had a connection to God, so he believed – and everything I had seen up until this point had convinced me. Almost. I still wasn't sure what my stance on God was, I had never been a religious person and a part of me had always seen the idea of divine faith as a fabricated state that allowed those with a guilty conscious to sleep at night. But whether I believed or not, I had faith in Joseph, and that was enough.

"When God speaks to you, do you hear a voice?" I asked, chewing on some canned peaches.

He looked at me and smiled, his eyes crinkling. It was a happy expression, one of kindness and reassurance, but the old me just wouldn't be silent. I was his 'family', and in a way he loved me, but I had once been his greatest foe, and now, I was reliant on him. The cynical, sinful part of me wondered if that affection was more about ownership and triumph than holy love.

"No." he answered, simply. "I _see_. I see a place, a time, and I feel a reason. I know in my heart that it is the Lord." And he looked up, as if God himself was hovering above the bunker walls.

And then he lowered his gaze to me, eyes filled with some internal vigour.

"Tomorrow we will start anew Mercy, and New Eden will begin. I'm so glad to finally have you by my side, where you belong."

"Father, I-" I began, but he cut me off. I wanted to tell him of my doubts concerning myself and my soul. It was a question that I had raised many times with him, but I was never satisfied with the answer and, I supposed, that that was the point. In repentance for my sin I would live with pain, guilt and uncertainty. I contained two halves that would never be whole. They would instead run parallel with each other, constantly at war; the Deputy and the Judge.

"You will never know what this, what _you_ mean to me." He said, honestly.

He said it without connotations; it was a simple fact, his truth. And I was glad for his acknowledgement, yet simultaneously sickened by the pathetic joy that it awarded me. I was truly his now. I wondered about my friends, their names which I cited off in the quiet of the night so that I would never forget, would they recognise me now? I barely recognised myself.

* * *

The bunker, the bliss, the canned food… none of them had been kind to me. When I stared at my reflection in the dusty bathroom mirror, I almost broke down. I'd been in Hope County for a long time now – had it been years? At the beginning I'd be toned and generally well-fed, with bronzed skin thanks to the relentless Montana sun and eyes bright with determination. Grace would cut my hair whenever it got too long. Pastor Jerome would disinfect my wounds, in a bid to lessen my scarring.

I'd walked away from John's corpse with a ruined chest, from Faith's with dull eyes and from Jacob's … from him I'd crawled away, with more scars than years to my name. And all that had been _before_ the apocalypse.

I scrubbed at my skin and peeled my fingers through my long, chestnut hair. It was too long for a trip, so I tied it behind my back in a braid. It swung down to my mid-back, but at least it was out of the way. I looked far less rabid when I left the bathroom, and the Father gave me a quiet appraisal.

He himself had barely changed at all in the time, and I supposed that this life… this _reality_ was the one he suited best.

* * *

It was strange saying goodbye to our bunker, but I wasn't sad to see it go. We left everything we didn't need – including the book of Joseph. In time, he said, it would be recovered, but that we did not need it. Not yet.

The Father had proclaimed that this would be a new chapter and so everything from our old lives should be shed. It dawned on me – if only briefly – how mad it all looked. The bunker was a true representation of my rebirth, with my bliss induced scrawls along the walls, my letters and notes, carelessly abandoned where nobody would ever find them. There was only one possession I still had, from before my time in the county, from before everything. I left my badge in a quiet corner of the room, without ceremony or any indication that it had ever meant anything more than the litter and cans that were strewn alongside it. I supposed it was fitting really, since it no longer carried any meaning, not to me, nor the world above.

Upon leaving the bunker we were greeted with the same heavy sky and dusty air as before, and we once again tied our bandanas around our mouths. Joseph seemed to know our destination, so I followed him, pistol ready. For days we trudged through burnt out country, finding shelter in the blasted-out ruins which we had once fought so viciously over. It was a truly depressing sight, but every so often we would stumble across a stubborn piece of vegetation, that with all its might had fought through the charred and broken earth. Every blade of grass and sprout of stem kept me going and renewed my faith in him – there would be an 'after', just as he'd always said.

* * *

After about a week on the road we came across a place which I knew well. At first, I barely recognised it. The road was cracked, and the buildings torn down, but the sign remained: Falls End. Without meaning to, I stretched out a hand and touched the sign, the wood was charred badly and crumbled slightly under my touch.

Joseph stood beside me, face partially hidden beneath his bandana but eyes bright and knowing.

"You have a lot of history here, Mercy. That I know. That is why I brought you here."

I looked at him, not angry at his hidden agenda, but curious as to why he'd thought it necessary. We were on a mission after all, for his elusive 'tree'.

"Why?" I asked, and with my voice muffled it was almost a whisper.

He seemed to digest my question but continued to walk forward, through the broken town. I followed him, awaiting his response.

We passed the gun shop and the Spread Eagle, and we'd almost made it to what was left of the church when he turned to me again.

"Bunkers stretch beneath this town like catacombs, Mercy. It is unlikely that all of your… friends… are dead."

I pulled my bandana off blindly, "What?" I demanded, eager and confused.

He looked at me closely. "I told you that there would be a new world, my heralds told everyone. But many didn't listen… I think, that now, they have heard."

I looked around quickly, imaging every spot that could house a bunker. Who had managed to escape the flames? Surely not many, but if only a few survived… it was more than I could have hoped for, far more.

"We need to find them – to bring them with us!" I said, stumbling over my own words.

A beat passed between us.

"They have survived, but they are not with us. They are blinded by hatred, by their sins. You are not one of them, Mercy. You are a member of New Eden."

And when he said it, it was as though a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. This was a test of my resolve. The Father knew what my modus operandi had been as I'd combed the county – I was working to free my friends. Sure, the situation was skewered beyond belief, but its fundamentals were the same. Would I go against him, against New Eden, in a bid to help those who remained?

For a split second the old me rose to the surface. It burnt away at my new faith and conviction, alighting my soul with the need to hunt, harm… avenge. I wanted to run at him, to curse him and beat him down. But I didn't, instead I let out a scream – it broke through the ungodly silent country and had there been birds left to frighten, it would have. I threw my pistol to the floor, just in case I was stupid enough to use it. I didn't trust myself. I couldn't. This was my fault, all of it – and the last friend I'd seen was dead, near the very bunker that I'd once 'liberated'.

Joseph walked towards me slowly. My reaction hadn't surprised him, of that I was certain. My soul would never be clean of wrath, not completely.

"It's ok, Mercy." He said, and his voice was different. It lacked its usual self-righteousness and charisma. Instead, for a split second, Joseph Seed looked weary. He placed his hands onto mine. "This is the new world, the better world. I mean no harm to any of those who cower under the ruins of everything they once loved. But they will not look at me as you do. They will not understand. In time, maybe. But at the moment, we walk different paths."

He wanted me to speak, to say something, but my mouth was dry with the venom that I'd worked to control. It occurred to me then that maybe Joseph was as reliant on me as I was on him. A small part of him needed my validation, my judgement – I was the only present member of his flock, and what was a preacher without those to listen?

"I want you to come with me, to come to the Tree. But I cannot force you."

I looked around for one final time at the place that had once been a distant home. I'd shared many a good time in the Eagle with Mary May and the gang, and I would have done anything to recapture even a glimmer of those times. But they were over, and everything had changed, most of all me. They would share a beer with Dep, but Mercy was different, something new that they would never understand.

I squeezed Josephs hands, grateful for their warmth, and we continued on.

* * *

It was a scream that awoke him, loud and poignant and full of anguish. It had been a while since he'd heard anything other than the tears and the chattering of those whom shared the bunker with him, so it took a while for his brain to catch up, to comprehend.

Survivors.

He hadn't left the bunker since that awful night of fire and death, none of them had. They'd been waiting for sign, and this seemed as good as any.

He shot up, "Wake up, everyone wake up!"

Those who'd been sleeping rubbed their eyes and looked at him wearily, those who'd been preoccupied, counting supplies, playing cards and daydreaming, came running.

"What is it, Jerome?" asked Mary-May, eyes wide.

The Pastor took a deep breath. "There's someone out there."


	10. Formless

Pastor Jerome had always been a believer. From the very first time his grandmother had taken him to the local church, and he'd heard the Pastor speak, he knew that this was the path for him.

He'd faced the trails and tribulations of modern life, yet he had never faltered, believing in the holy path as much as anyone could believe. Yet, through his journey within the Church, there were those who had criticised him, who had mocked his teachings, citing them as too 'forgiving', too false. These critics believed in old testament revenge, whereas Jerome had taken a more forgiving, loving approach to his religion. But however loud the voices of these critics grew, and however venomous their words against him, Pastor Jerome kept faith in his beliefs.

So, when the first whispers of a new preacher, an extremist, torturous and murderous preacher reached his ears he knew that God was testing him. He'd batted away opposing views with ease before, but this time was different - It was time for him to be challenged.

Throughout the many skirmishes that befell the people of Hope County in their war against the Seeds, Jerome's faith remained true. His god would _never_ speak through the mouth of such vindictive individuals, and so he fought on, as rigid in his conviction as ever before. Bodies fell by his hand, men and women whose names he did not know, yet still he pulled his trigger and wielded his knife, in the name of God and all that was righteous, true and holy.

So, when the world ended, when the fire fell from the sky just as Joseph Seed had said it would Jerome's conviction was, for the first time in all his life, shaken. And every night, in the quiet of the bunker when only the sleepy breathing of his fellow survivors could be heard, Jerome would lie awake in utter torment. God had abandoned them, abandoned _him_.

He'd considered walking out into the radioactive fire more than once and ending it all. Maybe at the fiery entrance to hell he would come face to face with his betrayer and demand an answer. Maybe then he would find some semblance of peace. But the survivors needed him. They looked to him in their time of need, and he couldn't help but bring them the appearance of peace, so he prayed with them -to a God whom he no longer trusted, and he recited passages that made his mouth fill with venom until he could speak no longer. If they saw his faith slipping, they said nothing. He was one of their last beacons of hope.

So, when the scream pierced his ears, shattering the silence of his tumultuous thoughts, he could hardly believe it. A strong, warm rush of hope filled his very soul and with it returned a long-abandoned faith. There was life above this prison, the world was not gone – God has spared them.

* * *

The further we walked, the thicker the air became. Every breath clawed at my throat and seared my lungs – it reminded me of the first time I'd tried a cigarette. And as my body waned so did the environment. There was no struggling vegetation here, no fresh, crisp leaves, only grey, ashen bark and murky debris. It was truly apocalyptic.

I was in awe of Joseph, the man walked with such purpose, as though it was a glorious summers day and he was on his way to fish before dawn. That was, until he keeled over.

True fear gripped me, sending an icy shiver down my spine.

"Father!" I wheezed out, running to his body and hoisting him up.

He looked up at me through dazed eyes and I pulled him into the burnt-out undergrowth, resting him against a tree. I went for my water bottle, thrusting it into his hand, but he refused.

I looked at him, confused, and he smiled. Silently he slid his hand into his own pack and produced a small glass bottle that contained some sickly-looking liquid. The way it twinkled… it could only be one thing.

"Is now really the time to be self-medicating?" I asked, raising one sarcastic-yet-worried brow.

"We won't get there without it, child. This is the Lords gift to us; we must take it." He said, unscrewing the lid and taking a sip. He closed his eyes and I waited for the bliss to take effect. I wondered briefly if I'd ever seen the Father high, he didn't seem like to type to get blissed out.

But… our final showdown, at the Church, the air there had been laden with the stuff. He hadn't seemed off then, hell, he'd been more brutally purposeful than usual.

When he opened his eyes, they were bright and focused, just how they always were.

"You're immune, huh?" I asked, taking the bottle as he passed it to me.

"No, not immune. The bliss allows us to see clearly, but my vision is already clear."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that; in my experience the bliss had always resulted in some pretty trippy nightmare-dreams. I took a small swig, weary of the stuff now that I no longer depended on it.

The father watched me intently. "Finish it." He commanded, disapproving of my meagre portion.

I steadied my hand and chugged.

Instantly my vision burst into light, bright particles of nothing twinkled in my periphery and the worlds hue became green and murky. The Fathers face remained clear, like a beacon through the foggy madness and I reached one hand out to touch him, just to make sure that he was truly there. He held my hand still and gazed into my eyes.

"You should have become an angel long ago, but God has kept you… grounded." He said, appraising me. The sane part of me guessed that I wasn't looking overly composed, but I was too high to care. "We will get there faster now. Follow me."

* * *

Whatever the bliss did to our minds and bodies I wasn't sure, but we hurtled through the forest, lungs no longer burning. I kept my eyes firmly on Josephs back, too interested in, yet repulsed by the blissed-out landscape to trust my own sense of direction. Sometimes Joseph would sing and, if I'd have known the words, I might have joined in. I felt happy. Truly.

And that's when I saw it, something quick and formless dart past us, just out of sight. I stopped suddenly, intrigued by the movement. We hadn't seen any animals, much less people since we'd been taken.

And there it was again, just behind a tree, maybe a few hundred metres off. My feet moved of their own accord and I stumbled forward, eyes only for it, the dark, shapeless figure. I lost sight of it suddenly and quickened my pace. I had to reach it; had to know what it was. The need was all consuming.

And then I reached the tree, but there was nothing there. I spun around, twinkling lights still plaguing my vision, colours still strange and distorted. But the figure was gone. Suddenly I remembered Joseph… where was he? I was thick in the forest and utterly alone.

A cool hand touched my shoulder and I sighed with relief, turning to meet the Father, glad that he had found me. But it wasn't him.

Before me stood a tall figure, dressed in brown rags with a plain wooden mask covering their face. The only distinguishable features were two eye holes, dark and nebulous.

Fear gripped me hard, preventing me from reaching for my pistol.

"W-who are you?" I whispered; eyes transfixed upon the dark stranger.

"Mercy!"

I heard the call, but I couldn't move, couldn't turn to the Father – not yet.

There was something rooting me in place, a magnetic field keeping me tied in a sinister stalemate with this mysterious figure. He didn't speak, nor move. If I could have seen his eyes, I wondered… did they blink?

"Mercy? Why are you crying?" and then the Father was there, by my side, hand exactly where the strangers had been. But 'he' was gone, vanished into nothing.

I took one long, staggering breath and fell into the Fathers arms. Something about the encounter had scared me rigid, and I was difficult to scare. I could sense the Fathers awkwardness at the embrace, but he quickly rectified it, rubbing my back and telling me to hush, as if I were a child.

"Did you see him?" I gasped between broken sobs, "Did you _see_?"

The Father shook his head slowly, "The bliss gives us clarity, Mercy. It has allowed you to see."

"Fucking bliss!" I croaked.


	11. Changes

Falls End had been his home for so many years now, that he scarcely remembered his life before. It was a small town, knitted together by strong bonds of community. Everyone knew everyone; where they lived, what they did, what they ate for breakfast. And that's what made it so hard, to see it burnt out, an echo of its former self. The Church was gone, as was the Spread Eagle… a couple of homes remained somewhat intact, but with their owners gone there was an eeriness to them that kept people away.

The ground was hard, unmanageable and poisoned, as was the water. The animals were gone, and the sky was more silent than he could possibly have imagined. Despite all of this however, Jerome was not without faith. He believed that they had survived for a reason.

He and Mary May took charge, creating scouting parties that would look for people, food, supplies and shelter. Nearly everyone knew of a pepper stash somewhere, so they were seldom without the necessities. They kept the Falls End bunker as a base of operations, and as more bunkers and their inhabitants were discovered, their reach grew.

They never came across any of Eden's gate, and its members were scarcely mentioned.

As the months passed the landscape began to change, fresh foliage sprouted out of the hardened earth and new trees took root, spindly and young, but beautiful all the same. The smog would clear at times, and what almost resembled sunlight stretched through the polluted air, gracing them with its glow.

Friends and families were slowly reunited, and the Ryes soon joined the network, with their now 3-year-old daughter – Carmina. It was a strange thing for Jerome, to consider that this child would only know the 'after' of what had been before. But then again, the before had never been that great.

And so, their lives went on, harsher and more primal than before, but they were strong, and they had each other. For those who remained lost, candles were lit, and for those whose bodies were found, funerals held. Often the discovered corpses were burnt almost to ash and so the graves went nameless. Yet still they trudged on, trying to find footing in the new, desolate world.

* * *

It was a quiet night and a stash of quality whiskey had been found a few hours prior, so a group had gathered in the corpse of the Eagle for a drink around the campfire. Jerome sat next to Nick, who'd been out scouting for plane parts - to no avail. As such, he was taking more than his fair share of the whiskey.

The chat was constant, people discussing tomorrows plans, supplies, weapons… everything. Eventually, it grew tired. Today was hard enough without planning for tomorrow, or so Jerome believed.

Suddenly, a young man spoke up. His eyes were glazed over as he stared into the fire, as if he was seeing something that nobody else could.

"I wonder… I wonder if she's still out there." He said, ponderously.

Nick took a swig from the bottle.

"No…" said another, shaking her head solemnly. "There's no way… the Seeds were one thing, but the goddamn apocalypse…"

Nick swigged again.

"She could be." Chimed another. "The radiation wouldn't have killed her, just transformed her into some super-human one-woman death-mach-"

"ENOUGH!" Yelled Nick, slamming the bottle down and getting to his feet. He looked at the crowd, a sneer on his lips that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Have a little respect."

And with that he stormed off into the night. The group stayed quiet.

It didn't take Jerome long to find him. He was sat lazily against one of the old church walls, hat off, as he wrung it slowly about in his weathered hands.

The Pastor sat next to him in silence.

The minutes ticked by, but eventually Nick could bite his tongue no longer. It wasn't that talking about her was taboo or anything, people just avoided it. It was difficult to consider that she may have died after protecting them all, after doing _their_ bidding… The guilt was almost too much to bear.

"The last time I saw her," began Nick, eyes flirting with the distant grass that swayed steadily in the evening breeze. "I knew that it was wrong… what the County had done to her, what _we'd_ done to her."

He looked to Jerome then, for understanding, before he continued.

"I know she went to Jacob's, Grace told me… and when she came back…" He was lost for words. "She killed more people than I ever thought possible, in ways I ain't never even considered. It was wrong. She was only a _girl_."

Jerome shook his head slowly. Nick was right of course, Hope County and those who had needed her had chewed her up and spat her out. She had been a resource, like an armoured truck or weaponized copter. But she had also been a girl, someone's daughter… and now, if he was being honest, she was probably dead, and how exactly it had happened, they would never know.

"You know…" said Jerome slowly. "I never even knew her real name."

Nick laughed then, and it wasn't entirely without humour.

"It was Mercy." He said, remembering the day she'd told him it, fresh after a peggy battle, when he'd had the balls to ask. "That's why she kept it so goddamn quiet."

Pastor Jerome almost cracked a smile at that. Almost.

* * *

If I had been asked how long we'd been on the road for, I couldn't have given an answer. With the bliss, the smoggy environment and my ever-constant companion… the days had morphed into one, long impasse from which there seemed no escape.

Luckily (or unluckily, I couldn't be sure), Joseph had brought along enough bliss to allow me to pretty much trip through the entire journey. It had taken some convincing after my encounter with the dark stranger in the woods, but the Father could be very persuasive. So, when I saw a neon green light off in the distance, I wasn't sure if it was real, or just another figment of my tormented psyche. However, I'd learnt my lesson of not wondering off into the woods alone, so I called to the Father, who was just in front.

"Father," I said, raising my hand to point slightly East of where we stood. "There's a green light over there, not too sure what it is."

Joseph followed my hand and his eyes reached their mark. I sighed internally – thank God I wasn't too far gone… yet.

"If I'm not mistaken…" Whispered the Father, as he turned slowly to face me. "That's a bunker door."

My mind began to whirl, who could possibly have taken shelter all the way out here? And if the door was open, had they too left, and ventured into the new world?

Instinct took over then and I reached into my holster and grabbed my pistol, finger on the trigger while keeping it firmly by my side. I moved forward, eyes glued to the green light and senses on high alert. Many people had referred to me as a one-woman army during my stay in Hope County, but before that, way back at the academy, I'd been known for something different – stealth. It was what made me such a good hunter. What made me such a good thief. And it was the only reason I'd been able to take down so many Peggy outposts single handed. If I knew one thing, it was that stealth could do what brawn could not, and brawn wouldn't tell me who was in that bunker.

Joseph followed swiftly, making more noise than I would have liked, but trying his best all the same. We swiftly reached the entrance only to hear a rustle from behind. I span on my heel and lifted my pistol. Through the smog two figures approached, but it wasn't until they were only a few metres away that I could make them out.

There was a man and a woman, Peggies for sure, with long hair and tattered clothes. They both held guns, but their grip was slack – I could tell they were tired and unfocused.

"Guns down, now." I ordered, not taking any chances, despite the fact that we were now all on the same side.

Their mouths dropped open as they put two and two together, they'd seen my wanted posters, they knew who they were dealing with. And then their eyes flicked to the Father, whose arms were down in a somewhat welcoming salute. His face was the picture of relief, adorned with the small smile he so rarely let escape.

"My Children," He breathed, sounding as elated as he looked. "How happy I am to see you."

The woman's grip faltered, and she dropped her gun, whilst the man's eyes filled with tears.

"Father," they crooned, approaching their holy lord, my presence forgotten. "We prayed… we endured…"

"And you have been rewarded." He said simply.

"But…her!" hissed the woman, spinning around to glare at me. "Why is the sinner with you?"

The Father shook his head slowly, "No, my child. The Deputy is a sinner no longer, she has repented and now she walks the holy path, as my unrelenting Judge."

And with that he stepped away from the pair, eyeing them as he did so. They looked confused, desperately so, torn between their longstanding hatred and the Fathers bewildering new stance. "And now we have reached her first call of judgement."

He looked at me then, eyes piercing and violent.

"Are they to join us in Eden's Garden," he asked, voice barely more than a whisper. "Or are they to die?"

A heavy beat passed through the air in which none of us spoke. The Peggies looked horrified, but they did not argue or plea their case. If the Father had put their lives in my hands, they believed it was just, was the will of God himself. A little part of me hoped that he was joking, was testing my faith to see if I would kill his… _our_ … own. But this was Joseph Seed, kidnapper, torturer, murderer… no, this choice was very real.

I must have paused for too long, for then he came up to me and raised my hand, pistol still gripped between my clammy fingers. He pointed it at the woman.

"They live." I breathed, looking at the two of them, whose distain somewhat lessened at my answer, replaced by blatant surprise.

"Very well." Said the Father, releasing my arm. "Then let us move forward, together."

* * *

 **Thanks for everyone whose being keeping up with the story despite breaks! I've been working super hard to get the first act done so that then I could move onto a time skip, when the Deputy's more Judge-esque!**

 **Suggestions are always appreciated :) & thanks for the reviews!**


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